


If I Had My Time Again

by myglassesaredirty



Series: It Had to be You [8]
Category: Psych
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bombing, Brownies, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Mom Life, Mother-Son Relationship, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Sad with a Happy Ending, Timelines Don't Exist, but babies are cute, but then angst, but whatever the case there's a prologue and an epilogue, episode: s03e05 Disco Didn't Die. It Was Murdered, fiGhT me on this they are the two best things, i am Too Young and Too Unpaid, i can't have a child, i mean it could be considered happyish, i really do not get it, i watched this episode after i already started and i misread the year, idk what my thing for epilogues is, it loOkEd like a SiX, not the pot kind, parenting is hard, the legal kind, the normal kind, this fic is literally giving me baby fever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:49:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myglassesaredirty/pseuds/myglassesaredirty
Summary: In October of 1976, the police station gets an anonymous tip about a person planning to bomb the police station. They catch someone. It's the wrong person.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is…absolutely nobody's fault but my own. But guys, come on!! Are we really going to act like none of us wondered what _might_ have happened if the guy had actually bombed the police station? Would Henry be alive? No clue!!!! Depends on a plethora of variables. Anyhoosies, I have been writing this obsessively, and I think I need to get back to my fluff writing. I miss it. I think this is the last angst thing, unless y'all want to read about Shawn getting attacked by a shark. Or Febuwhump. We'll see.

**_October 1976_ **

 

“I need all officers in the bullpen,” Herb says, poking his head out of his office. He holds a thick manila folder in his right hand and jabs his index finger towards the bullpen. “Now.”

 

Henry looks around the station, trying to figure out what’s going on. Jack just looks at him and shrugs, and Brett, the only one who seems to have any idea of what’s going on, refuses to make eye contact. Henry sets his pen down, stands up slowly, and leans against one of the pillars. The other officers mill around the bullpen.

 

Herb sticks two fingers into his mouth and whistles sharply. The officers all shut up and turn their attention to the front. Herb sighs and holds the manila folder up in the air. “I just got a call from an anonymous tipster about a bomb plot.”

 

Henry furrows his brow and glances at the detectives. Peters raises his hand. “Where at, Chief?”

 

Herb surveys all of his officers, winces, and shakes his head. “Whoever it is plans on bombing the station.”

 

He can’t have heard that right. Henry turns his best ear in Herb’s direction. “I’m sorry, but do you mean the perp plans on blowing up  _ this _ station?”

 

Herb glares at him but nods nonetheless. “Yes, Sergeant Spencer. Whoever it is plans on bombing our police station.”

 

Murmurs ripple throughout the bullpen, and Jack raises his hand. “Did the tipster tell us anything more about the person who plans on doing this? Male or female, motive, where they live, anything?”

 

Herb shakes his head. “We’ve got some circumstantial evidence.” He hands the manila folder to Boone and Peters and scrubs a hand over his face. “But we have nothing to go on.” He points at Boone and Peters. “You two need to share the case file with all the officers. We need all hands on deck, and if one of the officers solves this before you, then that’s okay.”

 

Boone and Peters nod.

 

Herb nods slowly and looks at his officers. “Dismissed. Get back to– actually, get ready to work. None of you are allowed to rest until this case is solved.”

 

The officers start to dissipate, and the tension cuts across the room. Henry’s eyes follow Herb, and he catches up to him on the way to his office. “Chief!” he says, half-jogging up to Herb. “Chief, can I tell Maddy?”

 

Herb glares at him. “I’m sorry, are you seriously considering telling your wife about an extremely sensitive case?”

 

Henry’s eyes plead with Herb. “Herb, she’s pregnant. If –” he stops, licks his lips, and swallows past the lump in his throat. “If we can’t catch this son of a bitch in time, she’s at risk. If the building goes down while  _ she’s _ in it, I don’t just lose my wife, I lose my child.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Please, I can’t lose them both.”

 

Herb sighs heavily. “Aside from the absolute most  _ basic _ details of the case to get her to stay home for a while, you can’t tell her anything about the case. We don’t need any unnecessary losses.”

 

Henry claps Herb on the shoulder. “I’m going to talk to her now.” As he runs off toward the stairs, Maddy comes barreling down the steps.

 

“Henry!” She skips the last three stairs, braces herself against the railing, and jumps down to the floor before she runs up to her husband. She grabs his arms and looks him dead in the eyes. Her own blue eyes plead with him. “Please,  _ please _ tell me it’s not true.”

 

Henry furrows his eyebrows. “Word gets around that fast?”

 

Maddy cups his face in both of her hands. “Please, Henry, just…ignore Herb. Don’t get involved.”

 

Henry grabs both of her hands and rubs his thumbs over her own. “Maddy, I don’t have a choice.” He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, burying his face in her hair. Her hair smells like green apple, and her skin is soft with her lotion. “Mad, I need you to go home.”

 

Maddy tries to pull away from his arms, but he presses one hand to the small of her back and pulls her closer. “Like hell I am,” she says. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe.”

 

This time, Henry does pull away. “Mad, it’s not just you anymore. You’re pregnant.” He looks down at her stomach, at the little tiny bump that is hardly noticeable if you don’t look closely enough. “I just– I can’t lose you  _ and _ our baby.”

 

Maddy presses one hand to her stomach and cups Henry’s cheek with the other. “Henry, look at me.” She waits until he turns to face her. “You  _ will _ catch this guy. I know you. You’re not going to let this rest until he’s caught, no matter how much I beg you.”

 

Henry turns his face into her hand and kisses her palm. “If the entire police station is working the same case, I don’t doubt we’ll catch this son of a bitch, but just on the off chance we  _ can’t _ catch him in time, I need assurance that you’re alright.”

 

Maddy shakes her head once, almost imperceptibly, and then pulls Henry back into her arms. “I feel like a sitting duck, waiting for the worst possible phone call of my life.”

 

“I’d rather it be you who gets that call than me.” Henry cradles Maddy’s head in his hand. “Mad, please. Please go home, just until we get this solved.”

 

“This baby needs a father just as much as he or she needs a mother.”

 

“This baby can’t make it to birth without you,” Henry whispers, “but it can get through life without me.”

 

“Henry…” Maddy squeezes her eyes shut and tucks her face into Henry’s neck. “Just promise me that you’re going to be alright.” She moves one hand from Henry’s back and wipes her eyes. “I don’t care if it’s true; I just need to hear you promise me.”

 

Henry sighs heavily. “I promise, Maddy. I promise I’ll make it out okay.”

 

**

 

She sits on the couch, nervously chewing on her thumbnail while she watches the news. There’s nothing about the bombing, nothing about whether or not they apprehended the person who made the threat in the first place. She hasn’t heard from Henry for three days, aside from one call every morning to tell her that he’s still alive and still working the case. She thinks she remembers him coming into the house a couple of times and kissing her head while she slept, but that could just be a dream.

 

Her leg jiggles up and down, and she presses her free hand to her stomach and leans back into the couch. “I don’t know what’s happened to your daddy, baby,” she whispers to the empty room, where only the voices on the television break through the silence. “I think – actually, I hope – he’s still alive.” She smiles softly. “Your daddy is the greatest man I’ve ever met. He loves you so much, and he’s never even met you. Sometimes, when we’re watching tv, he’ll lean over and sing lullabies to you. I don’t know if you can hear him. For that matter, I don’t know if you can hear me, either. Your daddy is a brave, brave man. He’s willing to do anything to protect anyone, including you.” Maddy rubs her stomach absently. “He’s the only person in the world I love as much as you.”

 

The door to the garage closes gently, and Maddy sits up. At first, she doesn’t know if it’s an intruder or if it’s Henry, but as soon as she turns her head, she sees Henry hang his police hat on the stand by the door. He braces one hand against the wall, bows his head, and shakes his head, sniffling once.

 

Maddy jumps up from the couch. “Henry…?” When he looks at her, she shakes her head almost imperceptibly and searches his eyes. “What happened?”

 

Henry blinks tiredly, reaches up, and starts unbuttoning his police shirt. “We got him, Mad. Caught him red-handed with the bomb in his hands.” He peels his shirt off and hangs his shirt on the rack. “The threat is over.”

 

Maddy breathes out a sigh of relief and runs up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Henry holds her close and tucks his face into the crook of her neck, lifting her off the ground. “Thank God,” she whispers. “Thank God that you’re okay.” She runs her hand through his hair, and all she wants is to be  _ closer _ to him, but that’s physically impossible.

 

Henry nods. “Herb’s giving me a week of leave. Said something about how this was a traumatizing event and how I should be home with my wife.”

 

Maddy hums. “I agree.” She kisses his cheek, barely pulling away from him to pepper his face with more kisses. “You need to be here with me.”

 

The corner of Henry’s mouth quirks up into what could be considered a smile. “I would rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world.” He kisses her once, and her eyelids flutter closed. “How’s the baby doing?”

 

Maddy puts her hand back on her stomach. “I was actually just telling the baby about you.”

 

Henry grins, pulls Maddy back to him, and kisses her cheek. “I still say that it’s a boy.”

 

Maddy shakes her head. “You are so utterly wrong, I can’t even begin to start.”

 

Henry quirks an eyebrow. “Oh? How do you know? You’ve never been pregnant before.”

 

Maddy scoffs. “I can tell.”

 

“You’ve literally only been pregnant for like, a month. There’s no way you, a first-time mom, can possibly know if it’s a boy or girl.”

 

“Well, how do  _ you _ know it’s a boy?” Maddy pulls away from him and narrows her eyes.

 

Henry looks at her softly and shrugs. “I just do.” He kneels, holds Maddy in place, and kisses Maddy’s stomach. “Hey, little one,” he whispers, “I’m your daddy.” He looks up at Maddy and grins mischievously. “I don’t know what she told you about me, but she didn’t tell you how much I love you, but that’s not her fault. There are no words to describe how much I love you, and what I wouldn’t do to protect you.”

 

Maddy looks down at Henry and gently runs her hands through his hair. Even though the quiet has been killing her for days, the silence in the kitchen doesn’t bother her anymore. Henry smiles up at her and kisses her stomach again, even as he leans into her touch. His shoulders relax, and he turns his head so that she can better brush his hair with her fingers.

 

“You’re such a cat,” she whispers, shaking her head fondly.

 

Henry hums. “You’re not the only one who loves having their hair played with,” he says. “It feels good. It relieves stress.”

 

Maddy kneels down in front of him and takes his hands in hers. “Henry, you have no idea how scared I was. A phone call isn’t enough. I just…had no way of knowing if you were going to be alright or if you were going to get shot or blown up or –”

 

Henry pulls his hands from hers to cup her face. “I’m safe now, Maddy. I’m unharmed.”

 

She smiles tightly at him. “What happened when you caught him, Henry?”

 

Henry sighs, but he relaxes again when Maddy starts running her hands through his hair again. “I figured Pooky would know something about these people, and he told me about this thing called ‘Soldiers Against Government.’ He told me that it was a really radical group, but he only knew about one person in the group, named Eugene Franks. We found some stuff on him, but there wasn’t enough to hold him. We went to the college and found some classmates of his, and they told us where he lived. Because I had cause, we headed to his place. Busted down the door, found him holding the bomb in his hands. There was a bunch of chemicals on his desk, and just –” Henry shakes his head. “Half an hour later, and we would have been too late.”

 

Maddy nods and kisses him. He leans into her and kisses her back, but his fear and stress shows through, and she pulls him closer and tries to reassure him, tries to tell him that everything’s going to be okay now. “It’s all going to be okay,” she whispers, mussing up his hair. He keeps his eyes closed and nods. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now.”

 

He grabs her hand. “Is this how you feel all the time?”

 

Maddy grins. “Whatever you felt when you first heard about the bomb plot is exactly how I feel every time you go into the field against a hostile perp.”

 

Henry shakes his head and whistles lowly. “I am very sorry for that.”

 

Maddy laughs softly and rests her forehead on his. “Let’s get to bed, Henry.”

 

Henry nods, stands up, and grabs Maddy’s hands to help her up. Once she’s standing, he picks her up, bridal style, and carries her to their bedroom.

 

**

 

Eugene Franks is convicted in February 1977, and the judge sentences him to 50 years in prison.

 

Maddy could maybe think that she could have felt pity for the man at some point, especially since he is losing 50 years of his life, but then she remembers how he threatened the lives of hundreds of people – one of whom was her husband – and how he could have affected the life of her baby boy forever, and she wants to demand a harsher sentence.

 

Henry isn’t there for the sentencing. He’s at the hospital with Maddy as she squeezes his hand so tightly that the bones shift and crack, and she throws her head back and begs for the rest of the baby’s birth to go smoothly.

 

She knows it’s the day of judgment, and she wishes to God that Franks understands the pain she almost suffered, that he finally gets that he almost sentenced her baby to a life without his father. 

 

Shawn Henry Spencer is born two months early on February 19, 1977, on the very same day a man sits in court with his head bowed, biting the inside of his cheek because they  _ think _ they got the right person, but they’re missing the two most radical. Eugene wants to tell them that they’re still at risk, but they only take that to mean that he’s threatening them again. They won’t listen. They never listen.

 

On the very same day Shawn Spencer’s life begins, Eugene Franks’ life ends. Beginning and end. Yin and Yang. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.


	2. Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They figured parenting would be hard, but they didn't quite realize how difficult it could be with a little baby who's sick with pneumonia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just. So sick of terrible wifi and homework. I'll be fine in a little while, I'm just pissed cuz I'm stressed as hell.

Maddy sits at the table and rubs her temples, staring at a dirty splotch on the brown table. Henry gently bounces Shawn in his arms and whispers soothingly, but Shawn keeps crying and shuts his eyes tightly. Henry looks back to Maddy and shoots her a look as if to ask, “what should I do?” She just shakes her head.

 

She moves her hands from her temple to her neck and massages the back of her neck. “Is he still coughing?”

 

Shawn lets out a small cough in answer, but his cough rattles, and Maddy’s heart sinks.

 

Henry gently pats Shawn’s back and stops bouncing him around. “He’s burning up, Mad.”

 

Maddy hangs her head. “Do you want to do the thermometer, or should I?”

 

Henry smiles softly. “If you’ll get it, I’ll do it. You’ve been taking care of him all day. It’s my turn now.”

 

She smiles at him and stands up. “You’re sweet.” She motions for him to follow her upstairs, disappears into their bathroom for a moment, and returns holding the thermometer. “And I thank you very kindly.”

 

Henry kisses the tip of Maddy’s nose. “You’re an amazing mom,” he says to her, crossing the room to lay Shawn on the floor. He kneels down, prepares Shawn for the thermometer reading, and winces. “Maddy, depending on how bad that headache of yours is, you might want to cover your ears.”

 

Maddy crosses her arms and stands next to Henry. “It’s roughly the size of Cleveland, but…I’m worried about him, Henry.”

 

Henry nods furiously. “Tell me about it.” He gestures to his chest, still trying to get Shawn to stop wiggling around. “My heart is pounding at 90 miles an hour. I feel like that’s not normal.” He sighs and looks up at Maddy. “Can you help me keep him still? Otherwise, we won’t be able to get an accurate reading.”

 

Maddy nods and kneels next to her son. “Hey, baby,” she whispers, running a hand over his baby fuzz. His crying falters and he stares up at her with wide hazel eyes. “Today, your daddy worked long hours, and I wish he had gotten home earlier, but that’s just because I always want him here with us.”

 

Henry shoots her a look and starts taking Shawn’s temperature.

 

Shawn’s face immediately scrunches up, and, knowing that he’s about to start writhing on the ground, Maddy keeps running her hand over Shawn’s baby fuzz and gently shushes him.

 

“Shh, shh,” she whispers. “Hey, Goose, it’s alright. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. Your daddy is just doing this to make sure everything’s alright with you.”

 

Big fat tears keep rolling down Shawn’s face, but he stops wailing for the moment.

 

“Well, you were here with me all day today. I’m glad my professors are letting me off the hook for most of this week, but Daddy’s gonna have to watch you on Tuesday next week.” She leans in and whispers, “My professors are mean, and one of them is making me take a test, even though they know I’d much rather be here with you.”

 

Henry glances at his watch and shakes his head fondly.

 

Maddy smiles down at her son. “I thought about making Daddy’s favorite dinner, but that’s better reserved for next week, which is his birthday, so I made him spaghetti instead.”

 

Henry pulls out the thermometer, and Shawn seems to remember that he should be crying. He moves his head and starts wailing, and Maddy reaches for him, pulling him close to her chest.

 

“What’s his temperature?” she asks, bracing Shawn’s neck with one hand.

 

Henry studies the thermometer and shakes his head again, this time less fondly. “It’s 100 degrees even, but I still think we should take him to the hospital.”

 

Maddy furrows her brow, pulls back, and presses her lips to Shawn’s forehead. “He does feel warm.” She sighs heavily. “I can call the doctor’s office tomorrow and see if they can fit Shawn into their schedule.”

 

Henry nods and struggles to stand. “I know that’s all we can do, but I  _ hate _ that it’s all we can do. I feel like we need to do something more.”

 

Maddy hums in agreement and gently pats Shawn’s back. Her shoulders slump when she remembers the chores waiting for them downstairs, and she blinks back tears. “We have so many dishes to wash.”

 

Henry glances at his wife in confusion, and his face softens when he sees that Maddy’s overwhelmed. “Hey,” he says softly, gently squeezing both of her biceps. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. You can turn on whatever you want to watch while I do the dishes and whatever other chores there are to do.”

 

Maddy cups his cheek and offers him a watery smile. “What did I do to deserve you?”

 

Henry kisses her. “Maddy, you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met.” He holds his right hand over his heart and bows slightly. “It would be an honor to do your dishes.”

 

Maddy shakes her head and laughs. “No, but seriously. I mean, yeah, you did your fair share of chores even before we were expecting Shawn, but still. You’re doing so much, even though you’re working so many hours…”

 

Henry smiles softly and kisses Maddy’s forehead. “You carried my child and loved him. I could never repay you for that, but the least I can do is help you out around the house when I’m home.”

 

Maddy wraps her free arm tightly around Henry’s neck and pulls him close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. “I don’t deserve you,” she says thickly. “You’re amazing and wonderful and the absolute best husband ever, and I don’t deserve you.”

 

Henry rubs circles on Maddy’s back. “Mad, if either of us doesn’t deserve the other, it’s  _ me _ who doesn’t deserve  _ you. _ I asked you to stay with me even though my job terrified you, even though I put my life on the line every day. I asked you to leave your family and take my name, even though you didn’t have a steady job and even though I was poor. I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”

 

Maddy pulls away from Henry and wipes her eyes. “I love you.” She sniffles and fans her face. “I’m sorry I’m crying, I’m just so stressed out.”

 

Henry chuckles softly. “It’s alright, Mad. Let it out.”

 

She starts crying harder now, and she looks at Henry in confusion. “But my pregnancy hormones are gone!”

 

Henry raises his eyebrows, whistles lowly, and shakes his head. “Oh, no. Your hormones are still all out of whack. It’ll take a while for that to go back to normal.”

 

Maddy presses her lips together and nods. “Okay,” she says, and she hates how thick her voice sounds. She carefully follows Henry back down the stairs and sits on the couch while Henry does dishes. She leans back into the couch, closes her eyes, and shakes her head. “What am I doing, Henry?”

 

Henry looks up from the dishes and glances in the direction of the living room. “What do you mean, hon?”

 

“I mean that we have one baby now, and I’m still in school, unpaid, and there’s just. We’re going into debt.” She licks her lips. “I’m twenty years old, and I’m a mom and a wife. That’s just so young.”

 

Henry stops scrubbing the bottom of the pot and furrows his eyebrows. “What are you saying, Maddy? That you want out?”

 

Maddy’s eyes snap open and she shakes her head rapidly, even though Henry can’t see her. “No! God, no. What I’m saying,” she says slowly, still thinking of the decision that rests in this moment, “is maybe I don’t have to become a police psychologist or any kind of psychologist, for that matter.” She looks down at Shawn, whose cheek rests against her shoulder, and even though he drools on one of her favorite shirts, she can’t help but think he’s the most adorable baby ever. “I hate leaving Shawn for any length of time, even if you’re watching him. I trust you with him and all, but I just…I want to be here, with you and him. And I get he’s going to start going to school in a few years, but I love being a mom and a wife first and foremost. Becoming a psychologist pales in comparison to what we have now.”

 

Henry purses his lips and nods slowly. “You’re graduating early. That should help with your tuition.”

 

“It does, and that’s great, but to become a clinical psychologist, I need at least four more years in school. That’s a lot of time and a lot of money.”

 

Henry shakes his head and runs the soapy sponge over the outer edge of his coffee mug. White bubbles foam from the sink and stick to his hands. “Is that what you really want?”

 

Maddy sighs heavily and pats Shawn’s back. “I don’t know. Maybe. I really love psychology, but I’d rather be here with Shawn, at least until he’s older and in school.”

 

Henry turns on the sink, runs the soapy mug under the hot water, and places it upside down on one of the kitchen towels to dry off. “Well, let’s finish the semester for now. If you don’t want to continue after the end of semester, then that’s fine.”

 

Maddy rests her head on the top of the couch and turns her head to the kitchen. If she squints hard enough, she can see Henry standing over the sink. “I love you so much.”

 

Henry smiles softly. “I know. I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated!


	3. Mom Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun is an extremely bright piece of trash. Her son also has a voice that’s louder than the entire Air Force flying over her head. When these two things combine after she’s heavily sleep deprived already, life gets hard.
> 
>  
> 
> Maddy doesn’t know which one wakes her first: her son or the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really, really, really, really, really don't want to write my Frankenstein paper. I didn't even particularly like Frankenstein and I loathe my topic, but it's due on Friday, so!!! I have to write it!!!! Yay for me!!!!

“Hey. Hey, honey.”

 

Maddy cracks her eyes open and sees Henry standing over her, gently shaking her shoulder. She glances at the clock, glaring at the little number six that stares back at her, and yawns, lifting one hand to rub at her eyes. “You’re going to work already?”

 

Henry nods and brushes her hair away from her face. “Yeah, Chief sent me a message on my pager. Apparently, there’s some big case. He didn’t go into detail.”

 

Maddy sniffs and blinks blearily at her husband. “I would assume not, considering that he paged you instead of calling.” She reaches out and pats around the edge of the mattress for Henry’s hand until she feels the calluses on his fingers. She squeezes his hand. “Okay, well…be safe.”

 

He smoothes her hair back. “I love you.”

 

She smiles tiredly at him. “I love you, too.” When he leans down to kiss her, she puckers her lips and gives him a peck on the lips.

 

Henry leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and Maddy snuggles back into the covers for that extra twenty minutes of sleepful bliss.

 

**

 

The sun is an extremely bright piece of trash. Her son also has a voice that’s louder than the entire Air Force flying over her head. When these two things combine after she’s heavily sleep deprived already, life gets hard.

 

Maddy doesn’t know which one wakes her first: her son or the sun. Whichever it is, she groans, throws off the covers, and hurries for her son’s crib. His face is scrunched up and red, his little hands are curled into tiny fists, and his little feet kick in the air as he squirms.

 

Maddy presses her lips together, reaches into Shawn’s crib, and gently picks him up. “Oh, honey,” she says, bouncing him gently. He shrieks in her ear, and she presses her cheek to his head. “Are you still not feeling good?” She leans just far enough away from him to press a kiss to his forehead. “Hm. You feel better than you did last night.” She licks her lips and sighs. “If you still feel bad, I’ll call Dr. Arnold.”

 

Shawn keeps crying, and Maddy furrows her brow. “Are you hungry, baby? Is that what it is?” She hurries to the rocking chair, sits down, and attempts to feed Shawn. When he  _ does _ start feeding, she frowns. “Huh. Guess you were hungry.”

 

Dust dances in the light where the sun peeks through the curtains, and Maddy stares longingly at the door. She wishes Henry had time off, and he should have been leaving closer to now, but Herb had a case. Herb always has a case, and he always calls Henry for it, even though Henry has refused the position of detective a number of times. The hours are too terrible, and he has a family.

 

Maddy looks down at Shawn, who seems much more peaceful now that his stomach is filling up. “Do you think Daddy wants brownies when he gets home?”

 

Shawn stares back at her with wide eyes.

 

Maddy nods and looks back up at her bed. Henry must have made his side of the bed before he woke her. “I’ll do it. I’ll make brownies while you’re taking a nap, and he’ll be so excited.” She smiles at Shawn. “Your daddy loves brownies. Once, when we were dating, I made him brownies for his birthday, and he ate them all. I’m not talking about a week-long time frame. I’m saying that he ate all of the brownies I made for him – minus one, which was for me – on his birthday.” She frowns. “But then again, he hadn’t been able to eat all day, so I guess I can understand. Whatever the case, he loved them, and he almost proposed to me right then and there because he loves brownies more than cake.” Maddy adjusts her arms so that she can still support Shawn while he eats while she boops him on the nose. “Can you imagine that, Shawn? He loves brownies more than  _ cake! _ That has to be a federal offense or something.” She purses her lips and nods. “Yep. I’m going to make brownies today. Too bad you’re so young, and you can’t have solid food yet. My brownies are to die for.”

 

When Shawn’s finished, Maddy shakes out the burping cloth and places it on her right shoulder. She gently pats Shawn’s back and rocks him back and forth. “Did I ever tell you how I met your daddy?” She smiles softly and presses her lips together. “I had literally just turned eighteen the week before, and I practically begged my professor to find me someone to intern with so I could get a better grasp of psychology. My professor was good friends with Dr. Taylor, so Dr. Taylor allowed me to sit in during some of the better sessions, and if he was overloaded, like after a Yang case or something like that, some of his patients were referred to me and I got paid for it. Not much, and certainly not enough to make a living until after I got my PhD, but I made decent money. Well, your daddy was my first case. He had to be cleared to work the field after an incident at the Cinnamon Festival.” Maddy shakes her head and laughs. “He twisted his ankle running after some guy who supposedly took his pancakes.”

 

She half-expects Henry to shout from the bathroom that the guy  _ did _ take his pancakes, and she waits a beat for Henry’s interjection, but then she remembers that he’s working.

 

Maddy shakes her head and sighs. “You know, Goose, Chief Herb used not to be like this. He used to let Henry be around, but I guess Henry’s just too good at his job.”

 

Shawn spits up on the burping cloth, and Maddy smiles down at him. “Do you need a diaper change?” She gets up, grabs the baby-changing blanket, and waits for the first sign that Shawn just bombed his diaper. “Yeah, it’s good that Henry’s good at his job, but I want him here. I’ll always want him here.”

 

**

 

While Shawn takes a nap, Maddy sets to work baking brownies. She has the radio going softly (Shawn loves white noise; she didn’t think two-month old babies could decide if they preferred sleeping in silence or with white noise, but apparently, Shawn did), and once Shawn wakes up, she’ll probably turn on the television. As the Eagles play in the background, Maddy bustles around the kitchen, glancing at the clock every now and again, just praying that she has enough time to get the brownies in the oven before Shawn starts crying.

 

Once the brownies are in the oven, Maddy grabs her psychology textbook and opens to the assigned chapter. Her professor may not require her to be at school, what with her taking care of a two-month-old, but she does have to have several additional assignments completed so that he can determine if she understands the material.

 

_ Chapter 23: Understanding Grief _

 

Maddy sighs, props her chin in her hand, and starts reading through the chapter aloud, hoping that she retains the information well enough that her professor doesn’t make her do anything more than necessary.

 

Before she can get very far, Shawn wakes up, and Maddy closes her book, turns off the radio, turns on the television, and runs up the stairs to go get Shawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should never have skipped school because of the flu. I should have just sucked it up. I have so much freaking make-up work, but at least it's a long weekend.


	4. Work (One Last Time to Solve the Case)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing about police work is that it's dangerous. Every day, he walks into work not knowing whether or not he's going to make it to tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :):):):)

_ April 12, 1977 – 6:24 am _

 

The moment he walks into the station, there’s something off about everything. He can’t place his finger on it, and he tries to ask Herb, but Herb just passes him the case file and points him toward Captain Connors.

 

Brett rubs his eyes and stares at Henry blearily. “He called you, too?”

 

Henry looks around the station and shrugs, opening the manila folder and peering at the information they have thus far. “He paged me just after I had put Shawn back to sleep. Said something about a major drug case.” Henry grabs the nearest chair and pulls it closer to Brett’s desk. “I just wish criminals could take  _ some _ time off. Like the mornings.”

 

Brett grabs his coffee mug and stares at Henry over the rim. “Henry, we’d all love to be out of a job, but people just insist upon being terrible.” He gestures to the folder with his coffee mug. “What have we got?”

 

Henry lifts the top couple of papers and skims the lines of information on the third page. “Hard drugs. Methamphetamines, heroine, cocaine. They’re selling to a lot of people –”

 

“Obviously.”

 

Henry looks up over the top of the manila folder and smirks. “Obviously,” he repeats, “but most especially to high school upperclassmen and college students. Naturally, a lot of adults want in on the action, but they’re making a lot off of students.” He flips the papers down and passes the folder to Brett. “There’s a chart with rough estimates over their buyers, but they’re getting cocky. We could track them.”

 

Brett hums. “Are you getting close to a full night’s sleep, Henry?”

 

Henry furrows his brow, sneakily grabs Brett’s coffee mug, and takes a swig from it. “No. Why?”

 

Brett glances up at Henry and then glares at him once he catches Henry drinking from his mug. Henry grins innocently at him. “Because that was a very smart idea, and if you’re that clear when you’re heavily sleep deprived, I wonder how great you are when you’re fully awake.”

 

Henry settles back in the chair. “Is Trish sleeping through the night?”

 

“She’s  _ been _ sleeping through the night. This isn’t my first rodeo with kids, Henry. Anything you want to know, I can tell you.”

 

Henry rubs his forehead. “How long will it take before Shawn is sleeping through the night?”

 

Brett purses his lips. “Give it another two or three months. He’ll get better about sleeping through the night, but, even after five or six months, he’ll still wake up in the middle of the night if he’s sick or something.”

 

Henry stares at Brett with horror-stricken wide eyes. “You’re saying I have another two  _ months _ of Shawn waking Maddy and me up? Are you kidding me?”

 

Brett raises his eyebrow. “It’ll get better as time goes by, Henry. I promise you.” He shakes his head. “I still can’t believe that you’re a few days out from being twenty-three, and you already have a kid. That’s young.”

 

Henry shrugs. “Not as young as Maddy. She was twenty-one when she found out she was having Shawn in the first place.”

 

Brett whistles lowly and continues studying the case file. “Do you think there’s something odd about a store called  _ Everything Purple! _ owned by two convicted felons?”

 

Henry purses his lips and nods slowly. “I think there is something  _ very _ off about that whole situation.”

 

Brett flips the folder shut and gets up. “I’m less sleep deprived than you are; I’ll drive.”

 

Henry grins, claps Brett on the shoulder, and follows him out of the station. “Aw, thanks, bud.”

 

**

 

Henry yawns, covers his mouth with his fist, and snuggles back into the seat of the police cruiser. Brett glances at him and passes him his coffee mug.

 

“It’s cold now, but it still has caffeine. Looks like you need it more than I do.”

 

Henry grabs it gratefully and chugs the rest of the coffee. “Thanks.” He passes the mug back to Brett, squints, and surveys the store in front of them. As the name advertises, everything they can see is most certainly purple, but Henry’s willing to bet that it isn’t much of a store. “Don’t we need a warrant?”

 

Brett shakes his head. “To search the rest of the store. We can go into that store once it opens, since it’s open to the public.” He grins and smacks Henry’s shoulder. “And we’re lucky. I have two daughters. If they ask us about it at all, we can pull that excuse.” He narrows his eyes at Henry. “Doesn’t Madeleine love the color purple?”

 

Henry’s eyes widen, and he whistles lowly. “Oh, hell no. She hates purple, unless it’s like, lavender or something.” He shakes his head. “I once gave her something purple, and I saw her die inside.”

 

Brett furrows his brow. “Wasn’t Shawn born in February?”

 

Henry nods emphatically. “Yep.”

 

“And isn’t his birthstone then an amethyst, which is purple?”

 

“Yep,” Henry says again, popping the  _ p. _ He scratches his chin, cursing the stubble that he didn’t have time to shave. “She’s a little angry that he couldn’t just wait ten more days.”

 

Brett chuckles and glances at Henry. “Did you shave this morning?”

 

Henry shakes his head and continues scratching the stubble. “No, and it’s killing me. It’s been years since I grew out my beard.” He tilts his chin up and scratches underneath his chin.

 

Brett squints. “Henry, I hate to break it to ya, but that ain’t a beard.” He reaches out and runs his finger over Henry’s Adam’s apple. “At best, it’s peach fuzz.”

 

Henry glares at him and scratches more fervently. “I  _ have _ grown a beard before. Just because this is my day-long beard doesn’t mean that all my beards look like this.”

 

Brett quirks an eyebrow. “Henry, you’re blonde. It takes twice as long to notice your facial hair as it does mine.” He reaches out and smacks Henry’s hand away from his face. “And stop scratching. It’s bad for your skin.”

 

Henry grits his teeth but stops scratching nonetheless. “Yeah, which means that it takes longer for the chief to tell me to go shave.” He sighs and flips open the manila folder, just so that he has something to do with his hands. “Why don’t you ever listen to the chief about that, Brett?”

 

“Because I’m in charge of beat cops, and since we’re both in charge of the police station, I think I deserve a say in whether or not I can have facial hair.”

 

Henry raises his eyebrows but says nothing. “How much longer until they open? It says here that they’re open all seven days a week.”

 

Brett leans over and peers over Henry’s shoulder. “Here,” he says, pointing at one line on the document with his finger. “If you  _ read _ anything, then you would have noticed that they don’t open for another couple of hours.”

 

Henry furrows his brow and glances at his watch. “False, Brett,” he says, holding up his index finger in Brett’s face. “They don’t open for another whole hour. Not any longer than that.”

 

Brett rolls his eyes and settles back into his seat. “Fine, then. Guess we’ll be their first customers.”

 

Henry smirks. “And their last.” He rubs the back of his neck, shifts, and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. Brett looks over at him while Henry pulls out a picture of Maddy and Shawn from just a few weeks ago. Maddy was holding Shawn’s little hands up to wave at the camera while she grinned brightly.

 

Brett claps Henry on the shoulder. “Henry, I’ve gotta say: you’re a lucky man.”

 

Henry looks up with wide eyes. “Why do you say that? I mean, you have a wife that you love and three kids.”

 

Brett smiles softly at Henry and rests his wrists on the steering wheel. He stares outside the windshield, watching for any suspicious activity at Everything Purple! “You’re right, and I do consider myself lucky for the same exact reasons you just mentioned. But, Henry, I’ve been hard-pressed to find any man that is as in love with his wife as you are and a man who has a wife who’s equally in love with him. And your son is such a healthy baby boy, even though he was born prematurely  _ and _ breech.” He looks back at Henry. “You have the best thing in life at your fingertips. I just caution you not to lose it, because if you do, it will be the most painful loss you will ever suffer.”

 

Henry doesn’t know whether he should be concerned or not, so he smiles at Brett even though his brow is furrowed. “Uh…thanks, Brett. That means a lot.”

 

**

 

When the shop opens up, Henry and Brett wait about fifteen minutes before they exit the cruiser and head on in. As the front door swings open, a little bell overhead dings, and Henry looks around the shop. There are a handful of pieces of purple furniture, like chairs and tables, but the tables look like they’re mostly meant for little girls about to play princess. There are a few purple clothes on racks on the far side of the room, but it’s pretty sparse inside.

 

One man comes out to the counter, and his steps falter when he takes in Henry’s and Brett’s uniforms. “Uh,” he says, trying to recover. He places himself behind the cash register and presses the palms of his hands against the counter. “How may I help you two?” He points to a sign. “We’re completely legit, I promise.”

 

Brett smiles at him. “Oh, no, we’re not here to investigate.” He leans forward, glances around the one-room store, and holds up his hand as if he’s about to tell a great secret and there are a hundred people around who can hear. “I have two daughters,” he whispers, “and they both love purple. I just got my paycheck yesterday, and I wanted to get them both something.”

 

Henry keeps looking around the room, his hands in his pockets. He forgets, sometimes, that he has a gun and other people can see it.

 

The young man points to Henry. “What is  _ he  _ doing here?”

 

Henry looks at him, and Brett snorts at his  _ deer-in-the-headlights _ look. “What?” Henry says. Brett mouths the cashier’s question to him. “Oh! Oh, no,” he says, gesturing to himself. “Not me. I’m just helping him. I have a really young son, and I don’t think he’s a fan of purple just yet.”

 

The cashier looks tense. His hands tremble a little bit, and his shoulders are closer to his ears than his chest. If Henry were to take a closer look, he knows that the cashier’s pupils would be dilated, and every physical sign of stress would be evident. “So, uh, officer,” the cashier says, “why are you here? Do you got a wife? Does she like purple?”

 

Henry shakes his head and gestures to Brett. “I do have a wife, but she has way too much purple in her closet. My partner and I were in between cases, and we had seen your store, so we decided to swing by. I’m just here to help him pick something out.”

 

The cashier looks between them both, and Henry catches the way his body shifts, catches the way his feet point towards the door, the way his body is poised to run.

 

Henry’s in the process of reminding himself that he can’t arrest someone for suspicious behavior like this when another guy comes out of some sort of back room with a bottle of vodka in one hand and a white powdered substance in another.

 

“Yo, Tanner! We are gonna be soooo fuckin’ rich after this sale, I’m tellin’ ya! Teenagers buy this shit like candy!” He points his bottle of vodka at Tanner, who keeps gesturing towards the two cops with his head. “Didn’t I tell ya we would pull this off? And the cops don’t even know about –” He stops after Tanner emphatically points to Henry and Brett.

 

Henry looks at Brett, and Brett nods at him. Both men start pulling their handcuffs from their belts.

 

The other man looks at Tanner, throws his bag of coke at the officers, and takes off running. Tanner leaps the counter as Brett and Henry duck, and both men run out the door. Henry’s hot on their heels, and they all fly down the sidewalks. One person pushes a stroller and shouts at them as they run past her. Henry squeezes past her and shouts an apology. He knows Brett’s pursuing them in the cruiser, but there’s no way Henry can catch them both.

 

If Henry had to take a guess, Tanner’s probably the money guy, and the other man is the seller, but he’s surprised by how fast both of them are.

 

Brett’s cruiser skids to a stop at the end of the sidewalk, and he stands up immediately, pointing his gun at the two men. Tanner stops dead, and Henry almost runs him over, but the other guy decides to press his luck, and he keeps running.

 

Brett catches Henry’s eyes, and Henry gestures for Brett to take care of Tanner while he goes after the dealer. Henry jumps on the hood of the cruiser, takes a few running steps on the hood, and jumps down, his eyes set on the dealer’s back.

 

The dealer still has the bottle of vodka in his hand, and Henry must admit, that’s some dedication right there.

 

There are three different directions the dealer could go: straight, left (which would end up looping back at their front), or right. If the dealer goes right, he meets a huge fence that he’d have to scale, but the fence leads into private property, and most of the time, Henry would need a warrant to get in.

 

But Henry has cause, first of all, and second of all, he’s the fastest man on the force, including the rookie who ran track for UCLA. Henry Spencer was nearly a state track champion, and he was recruited by colleges for both baseball and track.

 

As he expected, the dealer turns right and starts scaling the fence. He drops the bottle of vodka so that he can climb quicker, but his muddled mind catches up to him, and he’s just reached the top of the fence when Henry catches up to him.

 

Henry starts scaling the chain-link fence, wedging one foot in a hole. He keeps one hand on the fence, reaches up with the other, grabs the dealer by the shirt, and yanks him down. The dealer falls to the ground, and his back hits the concrete hard. Henry jumps down, grabs his cuffs, and rolls the dealer over onto his stomach so he can slap the cuffs on him.

 

The dealer groans. “Dontcha need my name?”

 

Henry rolls his eyes. “What’s your name, bud?”

 

The dealer’s eyes widen. “How’d ya know my name?”

 

Henry furrows his brow and pulls Bud up roughly. “Your name’s Bud? That’s unfortunate.”

 

Bud nods solemnly. “Bud Wasslebee.”

 

Henry grimaces internally. He now understands why Bud decided to pursue a life of crime. If  _ his _ parents had given him a name like “Bud Wasslebee,” Henry would have become a hard criminal for payback. “Well, Bud,” he says, dragging him back towards the police cruiser, “you’re under arrest for drug possession, drug sale, and selling drugs to minors. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

 

Bud gulps. “I can’t say nothin’?”

 

Henry rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. Do you understand your rights?”

 

Bud nods. “I thin’ so.”

 

Brett pulls up in his cruiser. Henry walks over, pulls open the door, and shoves Bud in the cruiser next to Tanner. Brett leans back and grins at him. “There he is, folks! The 1972 state medalist in the 800! He’s saving your families!”

 

Henry waves a hand, opens the passenger door, and gets inside. “Let’s get back to the station and get these boys to interrogation. Maybe Herb will let us go home early if we can finish up this case.”

 

Brett flips the sirens off. “I hear that.”

 

**

 

_ 11:45 am _

 

Henry groans and drops his head on his desk. “We still can’t interrogate them yet?”

 

Brett rubs his shoulder consolingly. “Nope. Boone and Peters have full rights to the room until they’re done with their perp.” He glances over his shoulder at Herb’s office. “But, on the plus side, this is the only case Herb’s making us do today.”

 

Henry groans even louder, so that it sounds more like a whine. “But that means that Boone and Peters aren’t even close to being done with their perp, and then there’ll just be so much more paperwork to do, so that we won’t get home until normal or late. There’s no way of knowing which it’ll be.”

 

Brett rolls his eyes, grabs the chair by Henry’s desk, and pulls it closer to Henry. “Maybe you could call your wife.”

 

Henry, his head still on the desk, shakes his head. “No,” he whines. “It’s Shawn’s nap time, and if I wake Shawn up during nap time, I will be sleeping on the couch until Shawn’s sleeping through the night.”

 

Brett rests his elbow on the pile of papers on Henry’s desk. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

 

“I think I am being exactly as dramatic as the situation requires.”

 

Brett shakes his head emphatically and points to the coffee pot. “You need sleep or stimulants. There’s no telling when Peters and Boone will be done with their case, so go get yourself some coffee.”

 

Henry sighs, sits up, and blinks blearily at his stack of papers. He looks around absently for a moment, reaches up, and scrubs his face with both hands. “Alright,” he says, standing slowly. “I guess that’s fair. I’ll call Maddy soon.”

 

He makes his way over to the coffee pot. Now, the way the coffee pot is positioned allows him to look outside the window, if he so chooses, to watch the comings and goings of the police station. As he pours coffee into his mug, he glances out the window and notices two young delivery people: one girl, one guy. The boy is scrawny, and the girl is more muscular than him. Henry laughs to himself and reminds himself not to get in a fight with her.

 

The two delivery people carry a heavy box between them. Henry doesn’t take notice of it, at least, not at first. They’ve gotten packages at the station before, and all of them are checked out. Usually, the heavier ones are full of new equipment, and in a few rare cases, they get a gift from a grateful parent or victim.

 

Henry tilts his head back, chugs his first mug of coffee, and curses himself when it burns his throat on the way down. He keeps his eyes closed and wills his heart to slow down so that he can get some more. When he opens his eyes, he sees the two kids still, but they’re bent over the very package they just brought to the front of the station.

 

Henry furrows his eyebrows. “That’s odd,” he murmurs to himself, and he takes a step closer to the window. He tilts his head so that he can see better, and the boy’s fingers fly over the package. Henry tries to get a better angle to see what, exactly, the package is, but the two young people look around quickly, stand up, and sprint away from the package.

 

His mind is on fire, screaming at him that there’s something wrong, but he can’t quite place what’s off. He just knows he needs to run away right now, that he needs to get as far away from this police station as possible.

 

He shakes his head, pulls up the blinds, and looks harder at the package. When he squints, he can make out numbers running down quickly and a blinking red light.

 

Henry stumbles backwards. “It’s a bomb,” he whispers. He turns around. “Bomb! We have a bomb right outside the station!”

 

The officers milling around the bullpen all stop and stare at him. Herb runs out of his office. Brett stands up slowly.

 

“Henry,” Brett says slowly, “we already dealt with the bomb threat. We got the guy. I think you just need some sleep.”

 

Henry shakes his head frantically and pushes his way past him. “I’m not kidding, there’s a bomb out there! Call the bomb squad, we might still have ti–”

 

He doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear much of anything. He feels a wave of impossible heat ripple throughout the station, and he ducks, covering his head. His skin feels like it’s melting. He thinks he screams.

 

_ Thank God Maddy and Shawn are safe. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So……Henry's dead
> 
> Maddy's reaction killed me to write. Stay tuned.


	5. Shock (A Textbook Can’t Prepare You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maddy walks downstairs with Shawn and looks at the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the fact that Henry never got to say goodbye to his wife, but I think athletic and dramatic Henry made up for it

_ 12:00 pm _

 

When Maddy comes back downstairs, holding Shawn close to her chest, she hasn’t paid attention to the news since six o’clock last night. She forgot that she had left the channel turned to the news because when she gets back in, the tv screen shows a reporter standing in front of a demolished building.

 

Maddy turns her face to look at Shawn. “Are you feeling better, Goose?”

 

Shawn coos at her, and Maddy turns back to the television.

 

The little banner at the bottom of the screen reads  **_DID THE POLICE CATCH THE WRONG PERSON?_ **

 

Maddy frowns, walks up to the television, and cranks up the volume. She backs up to the couch, but she decides to remain standing, at least until this segment is over.

 

The reporter’s name is Mariah Hazzlehoff. “…as you can see, the devastation wrought by the bomb is terrifying. Every building within two blocks of the police station has been destroyed. We don’t have word about any survivors in the police station, but as soon as the first responders are allowed to get back with us, we will have more information for you.”

 

Maddy’s jaw drops, and her eyes trace over every piece of rubble on the screen.

 

There’s no doubt about it. That’s the police station, and Henry was in it.

 

The reporters don’t tell her, and she certainly hasn’t received any calls from the first responders, but she knows, deep down, that Henry was in that building when the bomb went off, and she also knows, deep down, that no one in that building survived.

 

Her heart drops into the pit of her stomach, and her body immediately feels like ice. “No,” she whispers. “God, no. Don’t let it be. Please, God, let me be wrong.”

 

Blackness laughs in her face, twists around in her stomach, and pulls on her heart, dragging its sharp talons across her heart. Its finger wraps around her spine, pulls her closer, and whispers, “He’s dead, all dead, and he’s not coming back.” It throws its head back and drags her down so that her knees hit the floor. She still holds Shawn. “You could have stopped him. You could have told him to stay.” Grief pushes her hair back away from her face and stares gleefully at the fat tears running down her cheeks. “He died, and you didn’t even tell him you loved him.”

 

Maddy braces her hand on the back of Shawn’s neck and pulls him closer. “No!” she shouts at the tv. Her chest heaves, and she knows her body is shaking. The room dips around her, and Shawn paws at her hair, but nothing else matters right now.

 

When she closes her eyes, the room around her shatters. She can hear the sound of glass breaking, of an entire world falling from its axis, and it’s going to crush her. No one can keep it from burying her.

 

She rocks forward. “No!” she screams. “No, he can’t be dead!” She looks up at the sky, blinks tears back furiously, and shouts up at God, “You can’t have him! Not yet!” Maddy pulls Shawn closer to her and presses her cheek to his head. “He has a little boy! He needs to watch his son grow up! Shawn needs his father!” Maddy presses her lips together and looks away from the ceiling, as if God just shook his head at her in despair. “God, please. Please, give him back to me. Shawn needs to grow up with a father. I’ve seen too many instances of what can happen without a father in your life.”

 

Again, she gets the feeling that God just told her no, and she swallows past the lump in her throat, and manages to notice a list of names scrolling on the television.

 

“…all the people firemen and paramedics have been able to identify thus far. They have attempted to reach family members, but family members may be at work, school, or simply unable to answer a call.”

 

Somehow, through the blur of her tears, Maddy makes out some of the names from the list:  _ Jerry Carp, Jack Atwater, Don Peters, Floyd Boone, Brett Connors, Henry Spencer. _

 

Maddy shakes her head. “Why the  _ fuck _ did you have to take him, God?! What did he ever do to you?!” She rocks back and forth on her knees, but for the first time, she wonders if any calls have come through since she first heard about the bombing in the first place. “This isn’t  _ fair,  _ God! I want him back! He’s my husband!”

 

Shawn starts crying, and Maddy shifts so that her back presses against the couch. She wipes Shawn’s tears from his face and swallows past the lump in her throat. “What is it, Shawn?”

 

Shawn bats at her, and Maddy cups her son’s cheek and looks back up at the ceiling. “What am I supposed to do now, God? I have absolutely no means of providing for my son. He has no father figure.” She rests her head on the couch cushion. “How am I going to get through this?”

 

The smell of brownies wafts to her nose, and she realizes, for the first time, that she made those brownies, and now she’s the only one who can eat them.  _ He didn’t even get one last bite. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write a different version of this fic where Henry dOeSn’T die. Any takers?


	6. Understanding Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People come and apologize. She doesn’t want an apology; she wants her husband _back_.

The worst part is all the knocking on her door. There are so many people who come by the house and apologize to her for what happened, but she doesn’t want a fucking  _ apology, _ she wants someone to find the very people who killed her husband and sentence them to death row.

 

Eugene Franks admits to knowing who did it, and this time, the lawyers, judges, and surviving police officers listen to him and chase after the two and arrest them. Maddy physically can’t handle being at the trial, but she prays that they’re sentenced to death row.

 

Her psych professor swings by her house and tells her that she’s exempt from work for the rest of the semester, and he’s willing to pay for next semester’s tuition if she wishes to pursue a degree.

 

At eleven in the evening, three nights after Henry died, Maddy sits in the silence of her living room, twisting and untwisting the belt to her robe. Her heart feels so heavy, and she hates that she has to plan a funeral, that she has to give a eulogy.

 

Someone knocks on her front door, and Maddy sits up straight. There’s nothing good about someone showing up to her door this late at night. She stands up slowly, grabs the baseball bat Henry always kept hidden behind the curtains, and slowly moves towards the door. She stands on her tiptoes, looks through the peephole, and gasps in surprise when she sees who it is.

 

Maddy opens the door hurriedly. “Jack!” she shouts, throwing her arms around her brother-in-law’s neck.

 

Jack hugs her and rubs her back. “Hey,” he whispers, and Maddy can hear how hoarse his voice is. “I just heard yesterday. I got on the first flight I could.”

 

Maddy pulls away and wipes her eyes. “Where were you?” She squints at him, and her shoulders fall in disappointment. “Please tell me you didn’t promise some jackasses a 50-50 split on some buried treasure that doesn’t exist.”

 

Jack holds up a hand. “I was in Spain, but I’m done with treasure hunting, at least for a while.” He searches Maddy’s eyes and swallows heavily. “I lost my big bro, Maddy,” he whispers. “Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

 

Maddy smiles sadly at him. “I lost my husband, and my son lost his father before he even got the chance to know him. Do you have any idea what  _ that’s _ like?”

 

Jack runs a hand through his hair. “Of course I don’t.” He nods towards the living room. “Can I come in?”

 

Maddy nods and steps aside. “So, are you just here for the funeral?”

 

Jack shakes his head. “I don’t plan on being here just through the funeral.” He looks back at Maddy and shrugs. “I mean, Shawn has no father figure in his life anymore.” He holds up his hands placatingly. “And I know, I know, I’m not the best man to fulfill that role, but you two need some source of income, and I’m willing to help with that.”

 

Maddy shakes her head. “I’m not accepting any stolen money, Jack.”

 

Jack nods. “I know. I’m thinking about getting a job in carpentry. I used to help Henry all the time with building houses and whatnot.” He shrugs sheepishly. “And there certainly is one building that needs to be built up from the ground again.”

 

Maddy pats his shoulder. “Thanks for the offer, Jack.” She sniffles and rubs her nose. “I, uh, I can get you some blankets and a pillow. You can take the couch if you want.”

 

“That’d be nice,” Jack says. “I don’t want to impose.”

 

Maddy doesn’t think she can force anymore smiles, so she hurries to get the extra blankets and pillows. “Nonsense. You’re family.” She gathers the blankets in her arms and turns around to face Jack.

 

He takes the blankets from her and thanks her for the pillow. “You know, Maddy, I always loved my brother. And seeing him with you…” Jack shakes his head. “I knew there was just never going to be a woman that I looked at the same way Henry looked at you. He really loved you, you know. And when Shawn was born, I haven’t ever seen him like that. He loved you guys. That has to count for something, right?”

 

Maddy smiles at him. “It does, Jack. Goodnight.”

 

She doesn’t wait for him to wish her goodnight. She sprints up the stairs, closes her bedroom door behind her, and slides to the floor, burying her face in her hands. “I want him back, God,” she whispers past her fingers. “I just want him back.”

 

**

 

The first Sunday after the bombing, Maddy goes to church with Shawn and the Gusters. Jack sleeps in, making some sort of excuse as to why he can’t make it.

 

The Gusters usually go to Mass, but since Maddy is having such a difficult time doing things on her own for the first time, they decide to go with her to Santa Barbara Church of Christ, and they attend Sunday School with her.

 

She keeps getting apologies, and she’s sick of apologies, but her Bible study leader, Patrick, gently grabs her arm and pulls her aside.

 

“Look, Madeleine,” he says lowly, “this sucks. There’s no other way to put it. This is going to probably be the worst time in your life, and it’s terrible that those two did what they did…”

 

Maddy smiles tightly and moves Shawn to her other hip. “I knew them, you know. I shared a class with all of them, and I knew their mentor. I should have seen it coming.” She shakes her head. “Eugene Franks was a quiet kid, and he was kind of awkward and not particularly bright, but Melanie and her boyfriend…” Maddy sighs. “Listen, I haven’t stopped blaming myself, and I just want to know when this is all going to end.”

 

Patrick smiles sadly at her. “Maddy, you know grief never ends. It heals, over time, but there are just going to be random days some fifteen years in the future where you’re hit with a wave of grief, and that’s okay. You lost your husband, so you should be feeling this way. Part of grief is guilt. It sucks, but it’s just how it always is.”

 

Maddy pulls Shawn close to her and kisses his forehead. “What am I going to do, Patrick? I have no way of affording anything for Shawn, not without a college degree, and Jack’s trying to help us out, but he can only do so much for so long, and he’s going to get back to his lawless ways.”

 

Patrick squeezes her shoulder. “The entire church is willing to help you, and any family members that were affected by the bombing.”

 

Maddy smiles bitterly. “I can name six different families that the bombing affected who go to this church.”

 

Patrick nods. “You’re right, but you’re also in the most need. Henry was smart with money, but I don’t know anything about his investments. You have people who want to help you, Maddy. Let them.”

 

Maddy looks over at the Gusters, and they smile at her. “But what happens if they get close?”

 

Patrick smiles, and the edges around his eyes crinkle. “Then that means you’re human, and you’re healing.”

 

Maddy’s eyes well up with tears. “But what happens if they get close, and I lose them, too?”

 

Patrick shakes his head. “Is the bombing going to affect your love for your son? Are you going to build up a wall that not even he can get through? I heard the story, Madeleine. How the only possible thing that could have possibly brought you back to Earth after you got the news was your son. Are you going to prevent yourself from loving him because you’re scared of what  _ might _ happen?”

 

Maddy pulls Shawn closer to her, covering him protectively. “Of course not. He’s my son.”

 

Patrick nods. “And he’s the only person you have left that reminds you of Henry.” Patrick leans forward. “It’s okay to be scared, Maddy. This kind of pain hurts, and I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But life will go on. Things may never be great again, and things certainly won’t be perfect, but I can promise you that, in the end, things are going to be okay. It always ends like that.”

 

Maddy swipes at her eyes. “And how do you know that?”

 

Patrick holds up his Bible. “I’ve read the ending of this book, and good wins. Good always wins the war, but occasionally, it loses a battle. There are going to be a lot of battles in your life, a lot of tough and dirty fights, but you can win. You can always make it, but you have to know that God is in control.”

 

“God also took my husband.”

 

Patrick purses his lips. “True, but we all have a limited number of days. Just trust Him, Maddy. He knows what He’s doing.” He pats her shoulder. “We’re going to go more in depth about this in a few minutes, and the pastor is going to talk more on it during the service, but for now…”

 

Maddy nods. “No matter what, God is always going to be good.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if the last part was preachy, but I don’t apologize for writing it entirely. It’s a really personal part to me, considering that it was something that my pastor said to me after I told him that I was still struggling with my grandfather’s death. If it made me feel good to hear that, and Maddy would need to hear that. And besides, I’ve always headcanoned Maddy and Henry as Christian.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn Spencer deals with a loss that he never had the chance to grieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cracks knuckles* You think I'm done with posting at least twice a week with two different fics? Well, you thought wrOng.
> 
> (Who knew that the one thing to get me to be a responsible writer would be to have an insane word count?)

_ Fast forward some seventeen years _

 

Suffice it to say, Madeleine Spencer loathes trips to the police station. Each of the bricks on the front façade has the name of an officer killed in the blast carved into it. As far as Maddy’s aware, only about twenty officers from the entire force survived.

 

She did finish college, and she went through graduate school to get her PhD, thanks to the donations of practically her entire church, neighboring churches, the Gusters, her family (both her biological family and in-laws), and Jack. She refused to do police psychology, and instead opened a practice for grief counseling.

 

Maddy pulls up in front of the “new” station, turns off the ignition, and sighs. She gets out of the car, slings her purse over her shoulder, and marches into the station. A rookie cop with a terrible mustache reminiscent of Brett Connors’ almost runs into her on his way out for the coffee run.

 

Maddy stops in the bullpen, looks around, and picks out Gus leaning against one of the detective’s desks. Gus lifts his head, waves, and nods to Shawn, whose head is bowed sheepishly.

 

The detective – Karen Vick, Maddy absently recalls from various newspaper articles – stands and offers her hand for Maddy to shake. “Thank you for coming, Dr. Spencer.” She gestures for Maddy to sit down, but Maddy keeps her eyes trained on Shawn’s head, and Shawn dips his head even further. Karen clears her throat. “Well,” she says, sitting down, “we caught your son vandalizing the overpass on A Street.” Karen tries to catch Maddy’s eye. “Seeing as how it’s Shawn’s first offense, and,” she glances around and lowers her voice, “seeing as how he’s Officer Spencer’s son, we’re willing to let him off with a warning.”

 

Maddy clenches her jaw, and her hand tightens around the strap of her purse. “What is the minimum punishment for a misdemeanor like this?”

 

Shawn’s head snaps up, and he turns to his mother. “Mom, are you  _ kidding  _ me? Do you want me to go to jail?”

 

Maddy glares at him and quirks her eyebrow. “You should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you got a can of spray paint and vandalized the overpass.”

 

Gus catches Shawn’s eye. “You won’t go to jail for a first offense for something like this.”

 

Maddy shifts her glare to Gus, and he shrinks under her gaze. “Did Shawn call you? Why are you here?”

 

Karen, still sifting through paperwork, glances up. “Mr. Guster was seen at the crime scene, but it was evident that he had no part in the crime. Even Shawn admitted that his friend was trying to get him to stop.”

 

Maddy sighs, scratches her forehead, and shakes her head. “Do you know what the minimum punishment is?”

 

Karen winces. “I would say community service would be his minimum requirement. We could fine him, but that would end up coming back to you, since he’s still a minor.”

 

Maddy sighs again. “Community service will be fine. How long will he have to do it?”

 

Karen bites her bottom lip. “How about until the vandalism on the overpass is all cleaned up?”

 

Shawn groans and buries his head in his hands. “That’s not fair.”

 

Gus whistles lowly. “That’s…going to take you a long time.”

 

Maddy grins. “That’d work perfectly. He can start tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m taking my son back home.” She looks at Gus. “Do your parents know where you’ve been?”

 

Gus nods his head. “Yes, Mrs. Spencer. I called them when we first got here, but I expect a bit of a lecture when I get home.”

 

Shawn dutifully follows his mother out the door, unnerved by her display of calm. She doesn’t yell at him. Not on the way out, not as soon as the car doors close, and not at all on the drive home. Shawn leans as far away from her as possible, and halfway home, he chances a glance at her, and he notices the way her hands tighten around the steering wheel, the way her knuckles turn white, the way her face turns red, and he knows he’s in for the biggest lecture of his life.

 

Maddy pulls into their driveway, shuts off the car, and says quietly, “Go into the kitchen and sit down at the table. I’m going to take a few minutes to myself before I start talking to you about what you just did.”

 

Shawn nods solemnly, pops open the passenger door, and makes his trek into the kitchen.

 

See, he never understood why there were so many pictures of his father, even though he never met his dad. He knows Uncle Jack, and Uncle Jack even came for Shawn’s “Meet My Dad!” day in elementary school. Sure, he got arrested right after that, and Maddy lectured that man within an inch of his life for supposedly putting Shawn in danger, but at least he was  _ there. _ At least Shawn knew him.

 

Aside from two short months, Shawn never knew his dad. His mom tells him that his dad loved him dearly, but he didn’t, did he? He’s not here  _ now, _ and Shawn needs his dad who supposedly loved him  _ now. _

 

The door to the garage slams closed, and Shawn jumps. When his mom moves into his vision, he keeps his eyes trained on her. She walks around to the opposite side of the table, gently sets down her purse, shakes her head, and looks at him. “Why the hell would you do something like that?”

 

Shawn shrugs and leans away from her. “Because I was bored.”

 

Maddy shakes her head and points her index finger at him. “No, when you’re bored, you hang out with Gus, or you solve whichever puzzles you can get your hands on, you read a book, or you watch whatever’s on television. You have never gone out to vandalize someone ‘because you’re bored.’” Maddy does air quotes as she repeats what Shawn just said. “Give me the real reason, Shawn.”

 

Shawn holds up his hands. “I don’t know, Mom!”

 

“You don’t know why you committed a misdemeanor?! No one just does that on a whim!”

 

Shawn sighs, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s because of Dad, okay, Mom?! It’s because of Dad!”

 

Maddy’s eyes flash. “What the hell does this have to do with your father? He hasn’t done anything to you.”

 

Shawn leans forward. “Exactly!” he shouts at her, drawing out the word. “He hasn’t been here for my whole life, and I  _ hate _ him for it!”

 

Maddy presses her lips together and looks away from Shawn. “How dare you,” she says lowly. “How  _ dare _ you hate the man that loved you more than anything else in the world.” She looks back at him. “He didn’t  _ choose _ to leave you!”

 

Shawn presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “But he still  _ left, _ Mom! Look around! Where is he? Where is my father?”

 

“He’s dead, Shawn! He’s not coming back!” Maddy takes a step back, breathing in shakily. “Shawn, he loved you so much, and  _ this _ is how you repay him?”

 

“Mom, he hasn’t been here for my entire life. How am I supposed to deal with that?” He sits up straighter. “He was in love with his job. He knew the chief had paged him to come in at an ungodly hour. He still went. He didn’t come back home.”

 

Maddy shakes her head. “Your father considered quitting his job because the chief kept taking him away from you and me, but I was still in school, and someone had to put food on the table. He only knew that the chief had paged him because he was taking care of you early in the morning so that I could sleep. He even told his boss that he was going to take the next Tuesday off so that he could take care of you. When we first got news of the bomb plot, he made me promise that I wouldn’t even come near the station.” She smiles sadly. “You have no right to hate your father, Shawn. If you want to hate anyone, hate the people who killed him.” She grabs her purse and starts walking up the stairs. “And, while you’re cleaning up the vandalism, you still have curfew, but it’s 9:30 now. And once you’re finished with the project, you’re still going to be grounded.”

 

Shawn buries his face in his hands.

 

**

 

She knows that Shawn is pissed as all hell, but she also knows that Shawn’s not going to commit any more crimes. She hears him shuffle to his room, close the door quietly behind him, and turn on his record player. She assumes that he starts his homework.

 

Before she goes to sleep, Maddy gently knocks on Shawn’s door and waits for his soft “come in.” She pushes it open and finds him sitting on the bed, holding a small picture frame.

 

Shawn glances up, waves the picture at her, and looks back down. “What happened in this picture?”

 

Maddy steps into the room and sits next to Shawn. The mattress dips under her added weight, but she ignores it and studies the picture.

 

In the picture, Henry holds Shawn in the crook of his elbow and holds out his free hand to Shawn. Also in the picture is Shawn’s tiny baby hand wrapping around Henry’s pinky finger, and Henry’s eyes are full of tears, even as he smiles down at his son.

 

Maddy smiles, wraps an arm around Shawn’s shoulders, and pulls him close. “That picture was taken by your Grampa Baker. It was the very first time you ever held your dad’s pinky finger in your whole hand, and he literally stopped breathing for a solid fifteen seconds, and he nearly burst into tears.”

 

Shawn looks at his mom and quirks his eyebrow. “Really?”

 

Maddy nods. “Your dad grew up with a gruff father, and that was generally how he was around most other people, but his heart just melted when he was around you or me. You’re a lot like him, Shawn, despite never knowing him.”

 

Shawn ducks his head. “But you didn’t know Dad when he was my age.”

 

Maddy purses her lips. “No. But Grampa and Grannie Spencer did, and they both said you’re strikingly like your father.” She brushes Shawn’s bangs away from his eyes. “They do say you have far more Jack in you than Henry ever did, but you’re so reminiscent of Henry that…” she shakes her head. “It still hurts, and we still miss him, but you’re so much like him that I think God gave us a second chance, but in a different way.”

 

Shawn looks down at the picture again. “Why did those two fuckwads have to kill him, Mom?”

 

Maddy sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t know, but they did. The remaining officers found them, thanks to the information Eugene Franks – their scapegoat – gave, and they were sentenced to death row. Now, I don’t know if or when the state of California is ever going to fulfill that sentence, but they were put away, and they were punished severely.”

 

Shawn sighs and shakes his head. “They took my dad away, Mom, before I even got to know him. And for what? Why did they even think about doing it in the first place?”

 

Maddy bites her bottom lip and shakes her head again. “I don’t know, Goose, but they were terrible people.” She turns her head so that she can kiss the top of Shawn’s head. “You should get to sleep, hon.” She starts to get off the bed, but Shawn grabs her hand.

 

“Mom, why did you never remarry after Dad died? I mean, I know that guys flirt with you, but like…” he scratches his head. “You never show any interest. Wouldn’t Dad want you to move on?”

 

Maddy smiles softly, cups Shawn’s cheek, and blinks back her tears. “Your father was the only man I ever loved. To remarry, or even to date beyond a first date seems like a disservice to him. Maybe he would want me to move on, but I just– I can’t do that with a clean conscience.”

 

Shawn purses his lips and nods. “You really loved him, didn’t you?”

 

Maddy nods. “You know how much I love you, right?”

 

Shawn nods slightly. “Yeah, of course.”

 

“I loved your father just as much.” She ruffles Shawn’s hair and kisses his forehead. “Good night, Goose.”

 

“Goodnight, Mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this! As always, reviews are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Like it, love it, hate it? Leave a comment below or go to my tumblr, @ my-glasses-are-dirty, and tell me what you think!


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